When it Shattered
by ElectricWhiplashing
Summary: Nobody thinks to check the mirror. Not for the same reasons as he does. Every day, he wishes, dreams, he can be someone else. It never comes true. Or it didn't. Not until he saw himself, laying in the street, with a whole different story, whole different life. It was him, but it wasn't. Now, he checks it every day to make sure he's still there. The other him, that is. Humanformers
1. Chapter 1

"You're impossible," Knockout grumbled, and despite his clear attempt to sound disgruntled, the smug, blonder of the two still laughed as he sifted through the file folder, his ear holding the phone on his shoulder as he moved around everything in his hands. Knockout was totally smiling; he knew it, "No, stop laughing, I hate you. You are the worst comforter I have ever met. Don't start a career in therapy now. Save yourself while you still can,"

He couldn't help the teasing, even at that awful hour. "Aw, do you need a hug from your favorite lovebug?"

"As if!" And although his whisper-yell should have been an indication he wasn't exactly alone, Bumblebee chuckled. Knockout couldn't help but smile down at the file he wasn't reading, and he was at least feeling a little better than before. "I _am_ really sorry about it though, _Abeille_. I wish I hadn't been on call."

Bumblebee shook his head, settling into his cubicle, a steaming cup of coffee calling his name. "I'm not worried about it. You are worth a million dinner reservations, and I know how much your job means to you, now that you've been able to really get your career going,"

"But spending time with you is important too."

"I _am_ spending time with you, and getting paid overtime while I'm at it,"

"You don't get overtime pay, dearest,"

"Oh, really? I thought the sound of your voice was pretty priceless. Don't tell me I'm wrong!"

Musical laughter greeted his ears, and now he _knew_ his ginger was smiling, "Hush," the doctor snickered, "You're going to get me in trouble,"

"Really? You're worried about that? And here I thought you were such a bad boy,"

"Oh, well now that I think about it, I am on the phone with you! How positively scandalous,"

"Quite," Bee beamed to himself, absently looking through the case file.

"Darling, as much as I would love nothing more than to listen to you embarrass me, you have court tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Yes, the judge's clerk issued the summons. The one I put on the fridge in your apartment?"

"How fascinating. Maybe I could swing by the hospital on the way over,"

"Or you could get some rest, so you don't look run ragged tomorrow.

"I am being run into the ground, though,"

"You're supposed to be a credible witness. Showing up late, in your pajamas, with Starbucks isn't exactly going to do that,"

"Not even if I've got my sexy doctor boyfriend on my arm? I've got class!"

"Especially not. Babe, I know you care and all, but if they ask-"

"If they ask?" Bee cut him off tersely, "Knockout, I don't care what they think about me,"

"You should. They'll stop at nothing to discredit you, and people aren't above the prejudice like they say they are. What are the chances someone will have ill will towards you because of just because they're racist? What about because some might call you a celebrity, they'll think you're an attention whore? If you add me-"

"I'll get to talk about my amazing-"

"Consultant. Darling. Consultant. I know how hard you've been working on this case, and I know it's a big deal. But, you should remember, I technically haven't been read in on it." Knockout sighed, sounding miserable. He hated this, he hated knowing that no matter how much he cared and loved his boyfriend, there was still that chance. There was always that chance, but it ate at him like nothing else, "It's a high-profile prosecution now, but not all the details were released to the public. A lot of this information is need-to-know. I didn't, and still don't. I do know how important it is to you that you get your guy, and I'd feel terrible if I messed it up."

"Dozens of cops talk to their distant cousins about cases they're working on. That open investigation restriction thing is thrown out the window more times than the media,"

"I resent that,"

"Oh. not you, babe. The high school newspaper was clearly a different story altogether,"

"You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"Only a little,"

"Well maybe-" he paused, and Bumblebee's attention was quickly drawn from his case file, "I gotta go. Emergency room's calling me. Sorry, beloved,"

"Hey, you do what you got to do. I'll see you tomorrow though?"

"Definitely," the doctor beamed, rushing through the halls with his scrubs swishing at every step, "End of the line. Love you,"

"You too, Knocky,"

Somehow, Bumblebee felt reluctant to even put down the phone, even as it beeped to signal the end of the call. Something felt off. About everything.

It felt almost as if the case was too easy. Maybe it was. A witness coming forward was the first stroke of luck they'd had in weeks, but he felt worried about the upcoming trial. Sure, things weren't totally cut and dry. It hadn't been an easy case, and as the trail had grown cold, they'd gotten worried about ever finding the killer. Still, with him and Prowl going on the stand, there was no way things would unravel.

At least, he didn't hope so.

* * *

"Officer," the district attorney began, strutting over to the stand and snapping him out of his trance the next morning, "You look a little pale, are you alright?"

He stiffened, nodding firmly at the prosecutor who stared him down, "I am," _I just couldn't sleep for the life of me_ , he thought miserably.

"Well, then allow me to begin. What is your full legal name and occupation, for the record?

"Benjamin Bumblebee Prime. I am a police officer for the city of Iaconis."

"Officer, when did you first lay eyes on the defendant?"

"The seventeenth, of January. This year," he responded automatically.

"And what was he doing at this time?"

"Walking, some ways behind me and another officer."

"Who was this officer?"

"Prowl. Police captain of our station,"

"And what did the suspect do?"

"Pull a gun on us and fire."

"How many times?"

"Once."

"Were you harmed?"

"No. But Prowl was."

"Your partner was injured, what did you do?"

"I reached for my weapon and fired back."

"Did you hit your assailant?"

"Yes. I did."

"What did you do after this?"

"I was fairly certain I had discouraged him from attacking us further. My concern was with my friend, and I began applying pressure to the wound, telling someone to call for an ambulance,"

"Did the caller know who you were?"

"No, but we were not in uniform, which may have contributed to some of the confusion."

"What confusion?"

"The defendant shouted and caused a great ruckus to escape. Panic took over the crowd,"

"And in this time, the defendant escaped?"

"Yes. He vanished and did not reappear for some time."

"What happened after this?"

"I discovered the panic had been the cause of another casualty."

"Another casualty?"

"Yes.

"The very same casualty who is the victim in the heinous crime we are here to seek justice for today?"

"Yes."

"I have no further questions for the witness, your honor," the district attorney said firmly, as if concluding a grand chapter of a play.

The defense lawyer also asked him some questions, each of which he answered as truthfully as he could, but he found himself more than a little anxious as the suspect he'd hunted down mercilessly for hurting his friend smirked at him in one of the most sinister and unsettling ways he'd ever experienced. "I have no further questions, your honor," the lawyer said, and as soon as he'd turned around, the defendant's smile vanished, but he felt sick just thinking about it.

Bumblebee fought off the trembles that threatened to consume him, and he

It was then Prowl's turn. He was also sworn in, but quickly Bumblebee tuned the questioning out and breathed unsteadily as he tried to clear his head. This felt like more than nerves. What was wrong with him?

"Who was the victim you are referring to?"

"Laurie Grace Byron, an employee in a nearby store. She was shot and killed when on her way to her place of employment."

"And she worked in the café, only two blocks from the scene of the crime?"

"Yes."

"You are telling me that the defendant, this man right in front of you, murdered an innocent woman in cold blood, after he attempted to do the same to you, Captain?"

"Yes."

"Why would he do that?"

"Further investigation revealed Andrew Timmons had ties to a criminal organization I oversaw the dismantling of. His motives were based in vengeance and resentment."

Standing up abruptly, Bumblebee made his way out of the courtroom and fought hard to maintain any semblance of dignity he had left. The last thing he needed was a question of his credibility. As soon as he was out the doors however, he stumbled in the hallway, and nearly toppled over, bracing himself on a wall. All of the emotions he'd been feeling, all of the anxiety and hurt and confusion and worry seemed about ready to burst, and frag it, he was going to be sick.

His stomach clenched, and he faced the wall, burying his now sweating face into his arm, trying to ground himself.

He fumbled in his pocket. Courthouse rules be damned, he needed it in case of an emergency, and his shaking fingers dialed the one number he knew was the only person he could confide in. One right. Two rings. Three- "Hey, big brother!" Came the cheery greeting on the other end of the line, "How you doing? How was court? Did you nail the fragger?"

Bumblebee coughed and trembled a little, that same shake rattling his brain and sending his thoughts flying. "I don't feel so good, Roddy,"

He could have sworn he heard the clattering of something metal and a flurry of curses, "Don't you dare chicken out on me, big brother. What's wrong?"

"I feel… like something bad is going to happen. Court's still in session, I just had to leave, I felt terrible. I still feel terrible. I think I'm gonna be sick, Roddy,"

There was a silence on the other end, and for a second, he thought his younger brother had hung up on him. "Roddy?"

He almost pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the call was still going, but the rushed, "Yeah, I'm here," came just in time, "Bee, you're going to be okay. I know how that is, trust me, I do. I get the same way before every big race. Dad got it all the time too. It's just who we are, you know?"

The slight blonde tuft of hair on his head bounced as he nodded slowly, "Rod, I'm scared. I don't even know why, I'm just flat fragging terrified. What if this doesn't work out? What if he says no? What then? I'd die if he rejected me, Roddy, frag it, what do I do?"

"Calm down, Bee! You're going to be fine, trust me. Bee, you're an amazing guy, and Knock Out knows this. He knows it, and he knows he can rely on you to always be there for him. Give him some credit. This guy is really something special, and we all know it. He won't reject you for some dumb shallow reason, and it's been a while since you started going out. A long while. Some might say that this is overdue,"

"I'm scared, Rodimus. I feel like he's still ashamed of me."

"He probably thinks you should be ashamed of him. He's not too self-confident you know. You're a war hero, and he's… a lucky doctor who managed to defect at the right time. He probably feels like he doesn't deserve everything he has, let alone anything you've given him. You gotta make him feel like he's worth it, because I know you believe he is,"

"Yeah, I do" Bumblebee exhaled slowly, still shuddering a little, "I'll try my best. I just, I don't know what I'd do without him."

"You don't have to find out. Just ask, Bee. Just ask,"

The jittery officer hesitated, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," his grinning ginger brother responded

"You think so?"

"I know so. I'm not as inexperienced as you might think, big brother! I managed to snag me one fine piece of- Oh, hey, babe!" came a greeting and something that sounded suspiciously like a snort. "Hey, what, no kisses for me?"

"Roddy," Bumblebee said crossly. He so did not want to listen to his brother make out with his own lover. Frag it, he was trying not to empty the contents of his stomach on the floor after all,"

"Like, I said," the younger Prime brother's grin could be heard through the phone, "I know what I'm saying, big brother. And I've got the proof of how lucky I am right here in my arms-!"

"Rodimus, stop it," another, clearly uncomfortable voice came across the line, "Roddy, you're such a sap,"

"Mm, and you wouldn't have it any other way, now would you, darling?"

"Ugh, okay, nasty boy, I'm gonna go back to court, see this thing through to the end."

"Excuse me, I am not nasty!" he protested, only mildly offended.

"Thanks, Roddy," Bumblebee said softly, "I mean it. Thank you,"

"Let me know how it goes!" The younger man said excitedly, and the line went dead very quickly, leaving Bee to his thoughts. Rodimus was right. It would all be fine.

Or at least he hoped. Still, chalking his anxiety up to something along the lines of stage fright made ignoring it that much easier. Putting his worries out of his mind, he turned on his heel, and made his way back into the room.

* * *

They were supposed to be going on a date. That had been the whole reason he'd dressed up so nicely to begin with. He absolutely hated the monkey suit he was wearing, and Knockout… Well, Knockout loved it. It was enchanting, seeing his face turn the color of his vibrant hair, almost like a lovesick schoolboy meeting the eyes of his crush. A weight was pressing down on his chest, and though it ought to have been barely noticeable, he was getting jittery every time it bounced in his pocket.

Which happened at every step on the way _to_ said date.

And he was late, so he was moving quickly. Or, as quickly as he could, what with the restrictive movement choices offered to him. The sidewalks were slick with fresh rainwater, puddles only an hour or so old shuddering as droplets tore through their peaceful rest. Faint misting touched his face, and he almost swore, stopping short when a small child looked up at him in awe, two green eyes sparkling up from behind the firm hand-holding of his mother, someone who was also staring.

People did that nowadays. They just stared. Didn't matter what he was wearing or doing, but he shifted under her gaze, a frown settling on his face. He had somewhere to be, after all, and her less than polite gaping wasn't something he looked forward to. They couldn't help it, he told himself, but it didn't mean he was required to stand there and take it. A glance back and forth across the street told him all he needed to know. He could make it across in the gap that was coming; he was known for moving fast for a reason, after all.

One foot dangled off the curb as he prepared to try and be a little less late, and not draw anymore curious citizens to look at what was apparently a new zoo animal. Thunder rumbled overhead, the gloomy clouds in the sky practically ready to burst. So much for the weather improving, then.

Then the other slipped, and he fell into the street.

He never even looked up.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up alone hurt the most.

Sure, the insults men and women hurled at him were painful, his inability to find a steady job gnawed away at his insides in the form of anxiety and constant worry, and his longing to just be accepted by someone howled as his insides writhed in agony, but he always looked at the empty pillow next to him forlornly every morning and struggled to find enough strength to get up.

His knee ached as soon as he stood, wobbling as he rose to his feet, two hands behind him pushing on the uncomfortable mattress to help him start the day. The long day of hunting for a job. For the last week, he had been unsuccessful, and his stomach grumbled terribly that morning. He could barely afford the rent, let alone three meals a day.

Once upon a time, his father had encouraged him to join the military. "If you want to be a man," he'd said, "You'll learn to take a beating like a man. But more importantly, you'll learn to dish one out like a good warrior should."

And what did he have to show for it now?

Dedicated service for the better part of his life, and for what? A tarnished name, and an empty stomach? His mother had already sold everything of his father's belongings and fled. She was lucky that everyone had forgotten about her. Him? He was a war criminal.

This grim train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of a phone. A disposable flip phone with only a few numbers programmed in. He pressed the answer key, and brought it up to his ear. "It's me,"

"Hey, my man, how you doing?" the man on the other end of the phone said cheerily, "It was so hard tracking you down again. Friend of a friend got your number for me. I've been missing you, big brother!"

"Roddy," he frowned to himself, limping over to the bathroom and staggering when he missed the counter in front of him. "What do you want?"

"Well, I heard you called it quits with that fancy suit uptown. That's the whole reason you left, right? Well, my buddies and I were thinking-"

The dark-haired man cleared his throat loudly, feeling his bitterness come rushing back to the surface. "I'm gonna stop you right there. I don't want any part of it. I'm clean. I'm done. I'm working. Really working now, Roddy,"

"Well, I know that you's trying, but I heard you's not doing so well,"

"I'm doing fine," he lied, gritting his teeth furiously as he reached for a towel under the sink, "Don't know what garbage you listening to, but I never been better,"

His brother laughed, brushing off the lie like it was nothing. "Right," he snorted, "Lemme tell you, brother. It ain't about you. It's about family. And I take care of my family, even when they don't take care of me. The war might be over, he might be gone, but that doesn't mean we hafta lose one another too, know what I'm getting at?"

The aching man scoffed, "I know exactly what you're getting at,"

"Aw, come on now, don't be like that!"

"I be how I like. Get out while you still can, little brother. It don't mean I don't care bout you. I do. It's why I won't watch you do to you what he did to him,"

"Bee, don't you hang up on me! We're all each other has, Bee! Bee? Answer me!" Despite his brother's protests, Bumblebee sighed miserably, snapping the phone closed and settling in the small bathroom. A brace was tucked into a corner, the paint peeling off in odd places, and a few too many wrappings of duct tape around a couple parts.

Time to really start the day.

He knew from the moment the manager's face fell, he wouldn't get the job. People were staring, and his heart ached at the realization that his dreams might never come to life, and his stomach wouldn't stop hurting. In the back office, he twiddled his thumbs, waiting for the man to say something. "So you fought in the war?"

"Yes, sir. It's why I need this job so badly. There aren't a lot of places for a crippled solider. I promise, I work hard. I just want to make an honest living. I won't even show my face, sir. I'll work extra hours for no pay, I just gotta get it all together,"

"What side?"

"Excuse me?" His blood pounded in his ears and he trembled fiercely.

"What side did you fight on?"

"Ah-" he winced, "Bot, for a time. But I'm not like they all say I'd be like. I promise, I just want to work, and to help people. That's all I ever wanted."

"I don't know about this, Mister Pax."

"I promise I won't cause any trouble. I can make bread, I can clean; I can cook like you wouldn't believe,"

"Well, there are other candidates. We'll have to discuss it further if everything checks out,"

"Of course, sir. I'd expect nothing less. I just want to help out, pay my rent, contribute to society. Everyone's hurting still, and I want it to get better,"

"Say, do I know you?"

He couldn't help his face from scrunching up, "Well, I don't think we've met before, sir," he managed to say dejectedly. _Uh oh._ This was always where things went haywire. He'd never get the job now, not with that lurking feeling in the back of the manager's mind that something wasn't right about him.

"No, of course not," he nodded firmly, sandy blonde hair pushed behind his ear as he eyed Bumblebee with a curiosity in his eyes that made the former bot twitch a little. If he wasn't nervous, he didn't know what he was. "I'll give you a call then, let you know about any future meetings,"

"Thank you," Bumblebee breathed, one calloused hand reaching for the nicely dressed man's smoother palm, shaking it reverently. _Maybe this time would be different_ , he hoped, offering a sincere smile. "I really appreciate you taking the time to speak with me,"

"You take care now, Prime," the manager said, only to see the smile fall right off his face, him wincing and eyes filling with hurt and agony.

"It's actually Pax," he corrected gently, and it was then the shorter man realized his mistake.

"Oh." he shook his head, his smile also vanishing rather quickly. "I _apologize_ then."

"I really don't mean any harm-"

"I think it's time for you to leave," the now scowling manager said tersely, "This interview is over."

Experience had taught him better than to protest, and dejectedly, head hung as he backed away and to the door, the once proud warrior shuffled out of the room, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, not bothering to hide the limp and aching pain he felt with every step.

Still, he begged and prayed to whoever could have been listening that maybe the next interview would go better.

The sun had set maybe an hour beforehand, and streetlamps offered brief hints of what daylight would be like on small patches of the street. All in all, the job hunt had been unsuccessful. Misery had set up camp deep within him, pitching tents and carving marks on his insides as he fought off the burning pain that came with an improperly healed leg. Another reason to need a job. He couldn't afford the surgeries, or the doctors, to even think about getting back into shape. Physical therapy? It would be a whole other nightmare. War criminals didn't get military benefits.

That had been something else they'd fought about. His lover had begged him to get help, but Bumblebee refused.

" _You're not my checking account! I'll get it looked at when I can afford it!" he insisted, glowering at the hurting man before him._

 _Electric blue hair was in disarray, and the medical student only seemed to grow more upset. "I'm looking at it right now, Bee! Something is wrong! You are not okay, you're in pain, and if you don't get this taken care of, you're going to hurt for a lot longer than every time you strain yourself!"_

" _I don't know what part of, 'I'm fine,' got lost in translation, so I'll say it again. I don't need you to fork out money you don't have to take care of me all the time! You're important too! You need to take care of yourself before you worry about me,"_

" _Bumblebee!" Oh, man, he was upset about this. Knockout never used his name like that unless he was really peeved, but to be honest, the doctor-in-training looked a little more like he was on the verge of tears._

" _Babe, I'm fine!"_

" _I can't just stand here and watch you do this to yourself,"_

" _I didn't do this. You think this is my fault? It's nobody's fault, it just happens in war!"_

" _We're not in war anymore, Bee! Please, I know some specialists who would fit you in their schedules as a favor to me. Darling Bee, I just want to help,"_

" _Oh yeah? And how many favors would it take for them to figure out what's wrong with me? How many people would you owe it to for trying to fix me? Poor broken Bumblebee! Can't even tie his own shoe without shaking and hurting!"_

" _That's not what I meant, and you know it. Seeing you in pain is agonizing to me. I just want you to be able to live, because if you keep going on like this, you won't!"_

" _What's that supposed to mean?"_

" _It means you'll struggle for the rest of your life._ _ **Please**_ _let me help you. It's all that matters. I only need to see you okay."_

Knockout had won that round, and he'd ended up with the same brace that he was trudging along in now. His boyfriend had been right, and some part of him had always known it, but he'd been too afraid to really listen. If there was something wrong with him, then he couldn't take care of himself. If he couldn't take care of himself, someone else would have to do it. If someone else was burdened with his problems, they'd grow resentful, and leave him. And if he was alone…

Well, he didn't need to think about what ifs this time around. His big-hearted boyfriend was long gone and getting stuck on the past wouldn't fill his stomach. Maybe the dumpster behind the bakery might have something to last him the night. You never really knew at this point.

Maybe Rodimus had been right? His brother's new lover knew all kinds of things about the criminal underworld, and had lots of powerful connections with underground societies and the like. His little brother might have had the right idea after all. He could get the money he needed for the medical treatments and- Oh, who was he kidding. Once he got into the business, he'd never get out. He'd be under his father's thumb forever. _Oh, Dad_ , he thought miserably. _As overbearing dead as you were when you were still alive._

That had been a long time ago, and still, he couldn't escape the painful marks of disgrace etched into his skin by his "father" so long ago. He'd never even had a chance as soon as he'd come into the world. Prime had only made sure of that by "saving" him. Bumblebee grimaced, his heart sinking even further as he slowly came to realize exactly what he'd been hoping more than anything else wasn't true. He'd have been better off starving over twenty years ago as a poor, orphaned street rat.

Not for the first time in his life, he wondered who would be so cruel as to save a child and then brand them for the rest of their life, never to escape the towering hatred of, at the very _least,_ many millions of people.

Bumblebee shuddered, the ghost of his father whispering things in his ear, cruel, terrible things that made his skin crawl. "I fed you, boy," the man hissed, "I fed you when no one else would, so don't you forget it!"

 _Yeah._ he thought bitterly. _You fed me alright. Fed me to the fucking wolves._

On his way to the local pastry shop, limping and wincing along the way, maybe some ancient force took pity on him, and decided to make a change. To right so many wrongs done to a man struggling to get by. Whatever or whoever it was, they quickly turned his life upside down in a matter of seconds, leaving everything he knew worlds upon worlds away.

 _It just wasn't fair._ His red eyes glistened dangerously, and children scattered, parents trading hands with their young to usher them away, acting as a barrier between them and the scarred warrior. One look, and people ran away screaming. Was that really all the reason people needed? As if in reply, several pets were plucked from the concrete and carried away hastily, and he fought back the hurt that crept up his throat.

It came through anyways. He frowned, looking across the street with sorrowful eyes, the big orbs of color widening further. Blood was splattered across the pavement, children were screaming, a truck was stopped several feet into the intersection, and a limp body laid some distance from the crowd. A distant call of sirens caught his attention, and though his instincts screamed to hurry away, before they tried to pin this on him too, something called him to the fallen man.

He jogged across the street, looking at the murky puddles of reddened water, tainted even some distance away. His new acquaintance appeared to be his size- dressed smartly, with blonde-black hair held up like only hair products could do. It clearly was supposed to have been some night. A phone lit up, screen cracked, and its glass mixed with the remains of headlights, the same blue paint as on the truck smeared across the casing. The image of a smiling redhead greeted his face, eyes closed as he appeared pressed into a blonde- Wait. He inhaled sharply at the photo.

But- it couldn't be. The chances were one in a million. Or, a billion, rather. Still, one hand reached tentatively over to the pavement besides him, moving to get a better glance of the face in the asphalt.

Two lifeless blue eyes greeted him, blood trickling out his nostril, mouth slightly open as he looked forward, seeing everything and nothing.

How? He could only wonder, even if there was no response. Who was this man? Nothing made sense- it was impossible. Panic gripped his heart. Was he finally cracking? Everyone had said it was going to happen, sooner rather than later. That he needed to be locked up, restrained. He wasn't trustworthy. He wasn't even human; rather an animal that had escaped his cage.

Only the sweet, loving, unending support of who had quickly become his life had said otherwise, daring to stand against the others. No one else had been so vocal and stood up for him. Especially without asking. And still, he was staring at something that said entirely different things.

The sirens were getting louder- dammit, he never should have come over here! The scarred man stumbled to his feet, looking back as he rounded the corner to catch a glimpse of a uniformed officer staring at him from the new crime scene, jaw dropping in shock, looking as equally perturbed as he had been just moments prior. "WAIT!" the startled cop cried, reaching out as if that would stop him.

Before the startled man could have gotten to the corner, Bumblebee had fled several blocks further, leaving the demons he had worked so hard to bury chasing after him with inhuman screams that swallowed up the night.


End file.
